Childhood Memories

I was young when I last visited Australia. Once when I was just four years old and once when I was twelve. My grandparents live on a few acres, in a homestead, they built themselves a reasonable distance outside of Ballarat, near to Melbourne.

I don’t remember much about my first visit there, other than the heat and the big black neighbours dog that my brother and I tried to ride. Certain parts of my second visit are surprisingly clear. I remember visiting a shopping mall and buying a Lord of the Rings poster that travelled with me for years. I remember being taught to shoot a rifle and joining my grandfather hunting a rabbit, much to my mother’s dislike.

I remember walking around the lake in my grandfather’s land, climbing the chicken coop that seemed half castle at the time. I remember visiting friends and riding a quad bike. Taking a tour of a factory full of malt.

I remember our visit up to Sydney to see friends of my parents and looking out over the opera house, though I wonder now how much of that view is memory and how much is just recreations based on seeing it so often in films and tv.

You can see some family photographs below of our time in Australia.